Solace
by f U n N i E b O n E s 2K
Summary: Complete // Quatre POV // QWxDC // A broken hearted Dorothy finds comfort in Quatre.
1. Solace Chapter I

_Disclaimer: I'm a pobre little being. Poor na poor talaga. I don't own GW or any of its characters. I wish I did though._

Solace

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I never thought I would ever experience this moment. I never thought I would ever get this far.

...This priceless moment. 

Silently, I watch her coo our son to sleep.

She is swaying back and forth on the rocking chair that I purchased for her, while cradling our son in her arms. My mother never lived to lull me to sleep with her voice, but just watching the two of them makes it seem like I have experienced it before.

She doesn't know that I am there.

For a while, she didn't know about things that were there, waiting for her. She didn't know because she was busy chasing something else that was not for her.

I have watched her so many times before, and like so many times before, she never did acknowledge my presence. Either I have spent too much time with Heero, and learned to be seemingly invisible, or that she has always chosen to ignore me...

I remember the day when I sat next to her, and especially, the way she looked while she witnessed Millardo promise his love to another...

I can perfectly remember how beautiful she looked...I can also remember how sad she was.

Her long mass of hair was put up in a tight bun, and her face, looked serious against the glowing sun. Her hands were on her sides, and I saw them begin to curl up, as if recoiling in pain. Her feet were firmly planted on the ground, and she sat there looking so distant that she looked as if she was in a trance of some sort.

She was oblivious to those all around her. Her main focus was concentrated on the long-haired man, standing on the altar.

The orange sun was about to set outside, and the quiet ceremony was performed inside a cathedral in front of friends and colleagues. The bride and groom were standing on the altar, in the verge of tears as they professed their love and promises to one another.

She was sitting on a wooden pew, in the verge of tears as her heart began to chip off, piece by piece.

Although the look on her face was readable, she tried, so hard, not to shed a tear. She tried her best to look as calm and composed, but I could see in her eyes that all she wanted was to dissolve into the pew that she was sitting on.  She took quick but quiet breaths, and balled her hands up in fists to try to ease the tears away, and even though I never saw the tears fall, I saw that the tears stayed in her eyes.

I could tell that she was trying to be strong. I could tell that she forced herself to face this even though she wanted to take Noin's place at the altar.

It broke my heart to watch her inflict pain on herself like that. It broke my heart to see that she was crying for a man who was vowing his love to someone else while I was there, watching and waiting for her to finally realize that she was looking for the right things from the wrong man.

She couldn't realize that I was the right man offering all the right things that she has always needed and wanted.

I couldn't realize that I was but a boy to her...

How foolish we both were.

Although it tasted like bitter milk, I swallowed up my fears and reached for her hand and covered it with mine. Sharply, she turned toward me, and I could see my reflection in her tear-laden eyes. For a few seconds, she looked at me as if I was intruding into her private moment, but then her eyes softened. A few moments later, she lowered them and cast her look upon the ground.  She made no attempt to jerk my hand away.

I hoped that she would not make an attempt to jerk what I was offering away.

I gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and without looking at me, her mouth twisted in half a smile as a sign of her appreciation.

"You see too much," I heard her say. Her voice was merely a whisper, and I could tell that it took a lot for her to even do that. She didn't like being seen at such a weak moment like that. There was so much that I wanted to say to her, so little opportunity, and so great a risk that I didn't even know where to start.

So, I said nothing. We just ended up sitting there with her hand on my own as Millardo and Noin were married under the setting sun.

It was a few more months until I saw her again. In between Millardo and Noin's wedding and the time that I saw her again, I would find myself stopping in the middle of my paperwork or in the middle of the night, thinking about her.

I wondered if she was well, what she was doing, what she was thinking about... if she was thinking of me.

Or was she thinking about him?

...Of course she was. 

I thought about what I would say, or how I would even approach her. I thought about the things that I wanted with her, the things I wish I made her feel, those things that just made me a fool, a hopeless romantic.

...But if you think of something constantly and...You think hard...it just might be.

I saw her again outside a quaint coffee shop, quietly sipping her coffee and minding her own business. She was wearing a white, cotton sundress, with no frills or lace, and she had a pair of sunglasses resting on top of her head.

I thought it was a lovely spring afternoon. It was made lovelier by the fact that I had a chance to talk to her again. I was not going to let this pass me by.

I was driving my new toy down the small road, and even though I was on the other side of the street, I quickly distinguished her face and slammed on the tires. I parked my car and told myself to "casually" walk in to the coffee shop as if I never saw her there before I walked in.

I strode in, almost unsure of myself, but the back of my head kept nagging me to walk her way. 

What made me unsure was the fact that I didn't exactly know why I wanted to pursue her. I guess I never will find out what keeps drawing me to her, but I do know that whatever it is, it will keep me drawn to her.

When she saw me, I was disappointed to find that there was no spark in her eyes every time she looked at Millardo, but she quickly recognized me and plastered a polite smile on her face. I was not completely satisfied with that, but at the moment, it was better than a snobby frown. 

As I approached her, she motioned for me to join her. I quickly submitted myself and took a seat next to her.

"I want to thank you for what you did," she began, her eyes provoking me with those dull-blue depths of hers.

Once again, I found myself speechless even though I had so much to say. I could only force out a dumbfounded nod.

"I—It...Was foolish of me to be caught in such an embarrassing situation like that...but I'm glad it was you who saw. I know you would understand," she continued.

"Thank you," I managed out sheepishly.

There was an air of silence after I croaked out a lame reply. I wanted to beat myself for wasting my time and not grasping the opportunity to reveal a part of what I wished to say to her. Instead of beating myself, I opened my mouth to speak.

"How are things going? I'm assuming that you're well, Quatre?" she asked, beating me to it.

I felt my head twitch. My brain scrambled for a reply.

"Things are going well, I think," I lied. My gaze shifted to her, "What about you, Dorothy, how have you been since the last time that I saw you?" I asked. 

I saw discomfort and hesitation in her eyes, but she forced a smile in an attempt to cover it all up. "I have been better..." there was a pause, and I'm not sure if she wanted to say something and quickly dismissed it because she thought that she would look pathetic to me if she revealed too much emotion or if she didn't really know how to continue.

"...I'm just trying to pick the pieces up now that my dream is shattered. I have to start anew," she quickly finished.

"I don't think your dream was ever shattered, Miss Dorothy. I think your dream is just out there waiting for you to grasp it."  I didn't want to provoke her, I just wanted to steer her to the right direction.

It must have been selfish to think of myself at a time like that, but I didn't think of that at that moment. All I wanted to do was to steer her to my direction. 

Instead of a sly remark or an icy stare, she nodded her head in agreement. 

"You're absolutely right. I don't think that I was ever in love with him. I...think I was just infatuated with Millardo," she replied. 

"What about some dinner?" I stupidly blurted out, even though I wanted to question her feelings. 

She tried to suppress a chuckle, but it came out anyway. I expected her to turn me down, but instead she smiled brightly to me and reached for my hand across the table, the same way I reached for hers months before. Her fingers were warm against my cool hand and I wanted to pull back as if I felt some jolt of electricity. A single brush of her hand could electrify me. 

"It's only four-thirty, but I'd love to," she said, smiling. 

I took her to this small Italian restaurant a few blocks from the coffee shop. I found it strange how the hostess gave put us in the back corner table. 

The rest of the afternoon seemed so much like a blur, because we had such a good time. It was not awkward as I expected it to be, mainly because she entertained my questions and opened up. We talked about everything from the war to how many times we have watched Cinema Paradiso. I realized that we had much more common than I thought. 

I wondered what she realized about me. 

"Are you seeing anybody, Quatre?" she asked as she took a sip from her wine glass. 

"I'm all tangled up in this...arranged marriage," I lied, wanting to see her reaction.

Would she care? Of course not...she cared too much for Millardo to even consider caring about me. 

She placed her wine glass down. "Are you really?" she raised an eyebrow. She only seemed curious.

I laughed quietly. "I was just kidding. I'm not seeing anybody. Nobody wants me," I said, stupidly. My cheeks flushed immediately after I finished my sentence. 

She swatted my hand playfully and shook her head. "I actually believed that you were betrothed. I was beginning to think that this dinner wasn't such a good idea if your fiancée found out." 

"What about you? Are you tangled up in an arranged marriage?" I asked. I desperately wanted to know. I doubted that there was someone other than Millardo, for she had such strong feelings for him, and probably still did. I just had to know. 

"No...at least I don't think so," she said, running her fingers through her hair uneasily. 

"Were you very much in love with him?" I thought my question was too intruding, but my curiosity was killing me inside. 

I made her cringe and lick her lips nervously.

"I thought I was, but I really wasn't...whatever it was, it was one-sided. He cared for Noin too much that there really was no space for me," she said.

No matter how much I did not want to admit it, I did know that she was lying about her feelings for him. She was still somewhat in love with him. But I did agree that it was one-sided.    

"I'm sure that you will find someone else," I replied. '_If you looked harder, you will find that I am that someone else,'_ I wanted to say.

She looked at me curiously, and for a fraction of a second, I thought that she knew what I meant to say. I shifted my eyes away to avoid embarrassment to find that night had come. I glanced at the clock by the bar and saw that it was already nine-thirty. We had spent five hours together. 

"What's the matter?" she instantly asked. 

My attention went back to her. 

"It's getting late," I said. 

She looked at her wrist watch and almost laughed. 

"I'm twenty-two Quatre, I'm no longer sixteen. Did you think I had a curfew?" she asked, grinning. 

"I just thought that maybe you had something important to do and I didn't want to cause you any trouble," I replied. 

"...Something important? No...You're not causing me any trouble. This isn't trouble at all. This is important...just sitting here, and talking."  

I was about to reply, when three men with violins approached us and began to play. She bit her lip, and I saw it as a sign of discomfort. We both wanted privacy, no matter how open our conversations were. I took out a few bills out of my pocket to pay the violinists. 

They thanked us for the money, but what was said after that got to me though. 

"It is always a pleasure to play for two people who are in love," one of the violinists said with his thick accent. They then turned around and approached another couple. 

She smiled at me uneasily. 

"Want to get out of here?" she asked me. 

"Whenever you want to," I replied. 

I insisted on paying the bill, but she insisted on going Dutch. After refusing many times, she finally let me pay the bill and I took her out for a drive in my new toy. We passed through a mass of trees, the river, buildings... and the rest of that was all a blur. All I could remember was how the wind combed our hair and the way she looked that night.

_'Just the way you look tonight...'_

"I don't see why you even have to bother walking me up here for no reason," she said looking back at me as she looked for her keys. 

"It's no problem. It's rather late and I just want to see you home." 

I found myself inching closer and closer to her.

"Did you want to come inside and have some coffee?" she asked as she unlocked her door. 

She faced me, expecting a reply, but a reply could not come out of my mouth. I had come too close to her. I was too distracted by the nearness of her to even try to reply. Her perfume intoxicated me, her eyes mesmerized me and the beating of her heart petrified me. 

Our faces came closer and closer to meeting, and our noses finally touched, but I pulled away. 

"I don't want any coffee...thank you," I stupidly said, aching to kiss her, our faces still close. 

Disappointment filled her eyes. 

"Yes...like you said – it's getting rather late...and," she trailed off. 

She painfully pulled away ever so gently and I wanted to beat myself once again for ruining a breathtaking moment. She extended her hand and I gladly shook it. 

"Thank you, Quatre, for the happiest night I have ever had in years," she said, her voice subtle. 

"You're welcome," I whispered, with my hand still clutching hers. 

I found it hard to let go of her hand, and I found myself wanting to kiss her. She pressed her lips together and I let go of her hand uneasily. 

"Good night," she smiled faintly. 

"Good night." 

She went inside the room and before she could close it, I put my hand against the door, preventing her from closing it. 

She looked at me expectantly. 

"Wait...when will I see you again?" 

She smiled with satisfaction. 

"Not for a while..." she paused and fiddled with the doorknob, "At least, not until tomorrow night." 

I smiled back. 

Surprisingly, she showed up at my hotel room door the afternoon after in the middle of my violin playing. I nearly stumbled going to the door as I heard the doorbell ring. I smoothed my hair back and turned the doorknob. When I opened the door, she took her sunglasses off and flashed me her signature smile. 

"I know it's a little sooner than tonight, but are you available, anyway?" 

Once again, I quickly surrendered myself. 

"Sure...I – come in and have a seat while I...wrap things up," I quickly replied, frightened with the mess I made. Sheets of music were scattered on the floor, and my violin was sitting sloppily on the coffee table.  

She curiously looked at my violin as she entered the room. 

"I wish I had the talent to play the violin. I suppose I never had the encouragement because all my grandfather cared about was training me for the war," she said. 

Even though she made no direct or indirect reference, I could see the hurt there. Growing up must have been difficult for her because of the fact that she did not receive much love from those around her. She was orphaned young, and her grandfather only used her as a tool of war. She sought an older man to fill in the empty space that her father or her grandfather could not fulfill. 

Before she said those words to me, I often wondered why she was so in love with him. At the very moment the words left her mouth, I instantly knew why. She needed a father figure. Like everyone else, she needed to love and be loved in return.  Too bad she only loved those who did not last long enough or did not care enough to satisfy that need.

Within five minutes we were out of the hotel, leaving the mess forgotten. She insisted that she drive and I could understand her insisting because of the top of the line convertible she owned. The deep green car seated only two, but had tan leather seats, a video-phone, navigation system and aluminum trim. 

I looked at her and I didn't know what she wanted to accomplish by spending time with me. I didn't know if she wanted to forget Millardo completely by spending time with me or if she was only amusing herself. It wasn't easy to think of these things, but my selfish side thought that it was unfair if she was only using me to entertain herself.   

She must have noticed that I have been looking at her intently while she drove. Her head did not move to face me, but I could see that her eyes rolled to her side. 

"Are you wondering where we're going, Quatre?" she asked, without taking her eyes off of the road. 

"Yes—No...I don't know..." I quickly replied. 

She smiled. 

"I don't know where we're going, either."

We ended up in a small café bookstore a few miles away. The place seemed deserted, but it was the perfect place for some privacy. 

"As a child, I didn't really like books, mainly because I found them a bore and a waste of time, but after the war, I had nothing to do. One afternoon, I just found myself sitting in that dreary old study at home, with a ton of books around me," she told me as she slammed her car door.

"A few months ago, I found this place. It's very simple and humble, and the owners are very nice. They serve very good coffee," she continued on. 

I looked at her in a funny way. It was hard to believe that she was once this war-hungry girl who had tried to kill me. Now she was a lovesick woman who liked to indulge herself with coffee and books. 

As we went in, I realized that what she had said was true. The bookstore was simple, but there was something peaceful about it. My presidential suite was much larger than the store, and I could see that the furniture was somewhat worn, but the place had some kind of homey atmosphere to it. I felt like flinging myself into one of the plush seats that were placed there. 

It is strange how people like Dorothy and I appreciate simple things such as a modest bookstore, when we have been pampered by servants and spoiled rotten all our lives. 

"Did you want coffee, Dorothy?" I asked her. 

"No, no thank you," she said. She made her way through the small rows to look for a book. 

I followed her and she began to show me her favorite books. Most of the books she liked were classics and romantic novels. I wanted to tell her that most of the romantic novels were trash, but I realized that I couldn't. 

...She was a hopeless romantic, just like me. 

We spent our growing years during the war. Childhood was practically stripped away from us. We were still children somehow, someway. Realizing so many things about her made me wonder about what she realized about me. I just wish that she would say more and open up without hesitation or qualms.

She left me to my thoughts to look at magazines a few steps away. I saw that she picked up a wedding magazine. 

She was nonchalantly flipping through the pages, when she quickly froze. I heard her gasp. She looked deathly white and she looked the same way she did months ago, when we were in Millardo's wedding. She held the magazine in what looked like a death grip. I feared for the worst, and my mind told me to keep myself from looking at the magazine, but I never listen to my mind. I quickly walked over and covered the hand that had the magazine in it, and I felt the grip soften to my touch. I looked at it to discover for myself that she was looking at a picture of Millardo and his arm around his wife. 

I let go of the magazine and my hand fell to my side. I wasn't shocked or surprised. I just felt defeated that my suspicions about her feelings for _him_ were confirmed_. _I wanted proof, and now I've gotten it. She still loved him after all. I felt even more defeated that there was nothing I could do about it. 

"I..." she started gasping for air. She dropped the magazine. She looked at me, and cast her eyes down in embarrassment. Before I could react, she ran out of the bookstore. The few people who were there had their eyes peeled on the door that she slammed.   

There was nothing I could do but pick up the magazine and put it back on the rack. After doing so, I turned around to find that the customers were looking at me, waiting expectantly for my next move. I just sighed, and walked out of the bookstore. I found her in the parking lot, leaning against the driver's side of the car. She had her arms folded and she had her gaze fixated on the ground. 

She looked so vulnerable that all I wanted to do was comfort her. But I also did not want her to push me away. 

"Are you ready?" she asked distantly, without looking at me. Her eyes were still on the ground. 

As if by instinct, I gathered her in my arms and held her tightly. She was tense but relaxed after I soothed her by running my hand quickly up and down her back. She buried her face on my shoulder.  

"Ready when you are," I whispered. 

She pulled away from me, and looked up at me. Her eyes were not teary, but her eyes were soft and revealed too much. At least, to me it seemed that way. I could see pain and sadness there...mingled with some kind of confusion.  How was it that I could read her so easily? 

She looked at my eyes some more, as if she was searching for an answer. 

"I'm sorry you had to waste your time with me...I'm also sorry I'm glad you're here to comfort me when I need it. You seem to know what I'm going through even though I don't say much about it." 

After that, she turned around to get in the car. I speculated that she quickly forgot about me after she drove off of the parking lot. She looked dazed, and I could see that she was driving thoughtlessly. 

What was she thinking about? 

After driving for what seemed like an eternal trip to nowhere, she suddenly slammed the brakes when she saw something that looked like a bar to me. I was nearly thrown to the dashboard. She touched my arm and I felt a jolt of electricity there. 

"Quatre, darling, won't you buy me a drink?" she looked at me confidently, and expected me to look after her as if I was her keeper or servant of some sort. It made me very uneasy to see her want to drink only because she saw an article about _him and his new wife. _

Damn him. This guy was so damn lucky and he didn't even know it. 

I desperately wanted to say no, but at that moment, I could never have refused her. I only nodded because I didn't know what else to say. I knew that she wanted to get drunk that night. 

She tried to smile, but to no avail. She just looked more wretched than she already was. 

"Good. I know I can always count on you," she said. 

She quickly parallel parked the car, grabbed her purse, and rushed to get in to the bar. 

She asked for a martini and I told the bartender that I only wanted soda. The bartender gave me a suggestive smirk which I pretended to not notice. 

After she had a few martinis, I sighed and told myself that I could not take anymore. 

"Excuse me? Bartender...I'd like another martini...please," she said sluggishly. She was drunk. I wanted to kick myself for letting this happen to her. 

"No, no more martinis for you," I said.

I drew out a few bills out of my pocket and placed them on the bar. I grabbed her arm and purse and managed to get her out of her chair.

"...But I thought you were going to take care of me? I'm not drunk yet!" she said droopily. She might have thought that she was not drunk, but a normal human being would have thought so. The bartender looked at the two of us like he had seen many of these scenes. I knew that he was thinking that I was only taking her away to take advantage of her, but I didn't really care about what he or what anyone else thought about at the moment.

"You've had enough. I'm taking you home," I said firmly. 

She quickly moaned in protest, but she was weak and helpless. I dragged her limp body out of the bar and when we got outside; I carried her to the car. She tried to object, but she was getting sleepy. I placed her on the passenger seat. Once I put her down, she rested her head on the seat and I looked for the car keys in her purse. 

Finally finding them, I slammed the passenger door shut and ran to the other side. I started the car and pulled out into the road.

As the stoplight flashed red, I slammed on the brakes. I looked at her to see that she was asleep. I tucked in the stray hairs that were covering her face and ran my fingers across her cheek. I thought I saw a faint smile and her face leaning towards my hand, but it was too dark to really notice. I noticed that the shadow of green replaced the red one on her face and I put my hand back on the steering wheel and resumed my driving.

When we finally reached her place, I turned the engine off and saw that her house keys were with the car keys which solved the problem for me. I carried her sleeping form up the steps and to the door.  I blindly made my way through her small loft, and found the couch right away. I placed her there to look for lights. After a few moments of running my hands on the walls, I found a switch, flipped it, and found something that looked like her bedroom door. I picked her up again and placed her on the canopy bed that was fit for a queen. 

I removed her shoes and pulled the blanket to place over her.

When I placed the shoes on the floor beside her, she began to say words that I could not make out. I looked up and leaned over her. She opened her eyes slowly to look at me. 

"Quatre?" she asked. 

I was relieved that she recognized me despite the fact that she was thinking about Millardo for the past few hours. 

"Yes...it's me," I whispered.

"Take care of me...please?" she pleaded. 

"Y-yes," I replied. 

She moved over to make room for me and looked at the empty space. I looked at it for a few moments before I took my shoes off and climbed in. 

She quickly rested her head against my chest and wrapped her arms around my waist the moment I lay my body on the bed. I was taken aback for a moment, partly because of the nearness of her and partly because her action was just so unexpected. My brain was telling me to act with propriety and get out of the bed, but I really didn't know how to react. My arms ignored my brain and my arms wrapped about her. 

"Its friends like you who I can truly count on. Thank you," she whispered. 

Even though my arms were around her and she was resting comfortably against me, my body felt stiff. Before I could come up with a reply to her thanks or a good night, I felt the regular rising and falling of her chest.

At that moment, I didn't know what to feel...how to feel, even. Grateful because I finally had my arms around the woman that I have been dreaming about for so long? ...Or unhappy, or perhaps even angry that I was only a friend to her? I was truly confused. 

I was somewhat scared to admit it, but I finally realized that this woman with the piercing blue-gray eyes had moved me in a way that I have never known and in the process, captured my heart. I was falling for her. 

I lay there, hoping that she would someday tell me that she felt the same way. 

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	2. Solace Chapter II

Solace

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Just watching him sleep in my arms makes my heart feel warm and content. To drink in the sight of my own child is fulfilling enough to make me forget my worries. Just like his father, he has made life worth living. I gently sift my fingers through his delicate hair, thinking that I don't deserve such a beautiful child and a dedicated husband that has been there despite the fact that I acted so selfishly in the beginning and expected him to take care of me. He was my savior. For that alone, I owe him my life...

I blissfully lay asleep in dreamless slumber when I felt the rays of the sun urging me to open my eyelids. My lids were half open when I felt a warm body holding me. That feeling made me want to creep back to sleep, but when I tried, I did not succeed. My eyes fluttered open and I sat up.

The sight before me made me want to jump out of the bed. But thoughts of the day before and the day before that changed my mind. I remembered showing up at his hotel room the afternoon before, driving him to that bookstore and...

...seeing the look on his face when he saw my reaction to Millardo's picture...

I thought it was somewhat strange that I worried more about the face Quatre made than Millardo's picture, and I realized that I was getting confused.  The feeling of confusion all started the night before, when Quatre held me in his arms after I ran out on him at the bookstore. The embrace felt so reassuring...as if his arms were my refuge and I belonged there. I hesitantly pulled out of his embrace to search his eyes for an answer, and I could see all that he wanted to offer me. I was scared after that. A normal person would have been jumping for joy after they just saw what I saw. Personally, I didn't think that it was fair for him to pick up the pieces, especially off of the woman who had tried to kill him. I didn't think I deserved so much care and attention. 

I was too confused...and I was the kind who wanted to forget my problems...

As I was driving, I pictured a boy and a man in my mind over and over again. What I could not figure out was which one was the boy and which one was the man...In the beginning, Millardo was the man for me. He was a bit older, and I knew that, but in my mind, I loved him anyway, or at least I thought I did. But then when he announced his engagement to Noin, I was crushed. I saw no reason in living when I had no one to love or live for anymore. I told myself that I wanted to take my life while I watched the two of them profess their love to each other at the wedding ceremony, but I told myself to live to see it...I don't know why, but I wanted to see if I could at least live through the ceremony. Before the ceremony ended, Quatre stepped in to my rescue and as he touched my hand, it felt so right. He had come just in time. 

Before I could reach a conclusion that morning, I felt a raging headache. I did have quite a lot of martinis last night. I stole another glance at Quatre, and I realized that my heart had skipped a beat. He had truly changed over the years. My cheeks burned in embarrassment as my eyes skimmed down his profile. Before I could have any inappropriate thoughts about him, I bit my lip and got off the bed. My hands automatically shifted down to my thighs to straighten what I was wearing, when I realized that I was wearing the same dress that I wore yesterday. 

Noticing that there was nothing much that I could do, I walked into the shower to refresh myself, and to clear my head. I thought that after I got out, I would apologize to Quatre and make him breakfast. 

After I was done, I wrapped my hair in a towel and covered myself with a robe. 

"I could cook you breakfast if you like..." I trailed off to see that he was no longer in the room. Did he leave? No—I had to apologize first. He couldn't leave...I had so much to say. It couldn't be over just like that...just when...

I quickly dismissed that thought from my head. 

I frantically reached for the door that led to the rest of my loft and opened it to find my sense of smell aroused by the smell of something frying. I wanted to sigh in relief because I didn't scare him away. 

"I see that you beat me to it," I said as I approached him. 

He looked back at me with those tender azure eyes and smiled. "I found some eggs in your refrigerator and thought that I could make us an omelet," He turned his attention back to what he was cooking after he finished his question.

"...Omelet?" I asked as I took a seat on the barstool by the breakfast bar. He could cook? And no, it's not just fried eggs, but an omelet. He must have had too much free time just like me after the war. 

I never really noticed that he has filled out at the right places over the past few years. He was no longer the scrawny boy that I've tried to kill. He was now a man. 

...A man? Where did that thought come from? I didn't know it at the moment, but I later realized that I had developed an emotional attachment to him. He must have felt my eyes on his back because he cleared his throat and I could feel that he was searching his mind for something to say.

"So...you have quite a place here...small but lavish...cozy but sophisticated," he said finally speaking, with his back still towards me. 

"It's quite small, but the minute I set my foot on this place to take a look at it, I fell in love with it," I replied. I saw him wince at my words but I quickly dismissed the thought. 

After my reply, another moment of silence passed us. I found my eyes wandering around the breakfast bar and my eyes fell upon an envelope. I reached out and picked it up, re-reading the content of the invitation inside it. I looked up at his back to ask him something. Before I spoke up, he already turned to face me as if he sensed what I was thinking. His eyes were looking straight into mine. I had a sudden loss for words which was ridiculous because I was given the best education in verbal communication.

"This thing...this um..." I muttered. 

"That invitation? What about it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.  

"Relena's engagement party...are you going?" 

He paused for a moment and forced out a smile. "Now that you have mentioned it...yes, I think I will be," Funny how after he said it, I wanted to breathe out a sigh of relief. 

It was another four weeks after I saw Quatre's face again. During those four weeks of separation, my mind kept meandering from Millardo to him. I was truly grateful that Quatre had come to my rescue when I was in the fit of depression, but I was still convinced that my heart belonged to Millardo no matter what. I entered the room hesitantly, a third of me aching to see Millardo again, the other third dreading to see his wife...and the other third dreading and aching to see Quatre again. I guess I was too embarrassed to even face him again. I didn't know if I was supposed to thank him or apologize to him, or even both, because right after breakfast, I never got around to apologizing to him. He called for a car and we sat in my living room in silence until he left and I could think of nothing to say but goodbye. 

I quickly spotted the bride-to-be and placed a kiss on every cheek. She was glowing even though she had that seemingly emotionless ex-soldier next to her. Their love story never started as a fairy tale, but I was absolutely sure that they will live happily ever after. Heero had no emotion on his face at all, but his arm rested comfortably around her waist and she did most of the greeting. I noticed that Heero's eyes softened every time his eyes fell upon Relena. I've always thought that he never deserved her for not only pointing a gun to her face in the beginning, but because he hurt her so much by denying himself of her for so long, but I realized that he made her happy and that was worth it.

"I'm so glad you came!" she chirped, beaming at me. Indeed, Heero did make her happy.

"Why of course I came. Did you think that I could miss such an event? Congratulations!" I replied, trying my best to hide the sarcasm there. Relena was one of my few closest friends now, but there were traits of mine that never changed.  

I looked at Heero and saw that he made no attempt to say anything to me. We did not have anything to say to each other anyway. After Relena thanked me, I smiled and quickly excused myself so that she could continue greeting her guests. Many dull delegates and snobby aristocrats were invited to the grand celebration, and I found myself wanting to yawn as I descended the steps before me that led to the dance floor and the dinner tables. When I reached the foot of the stairs, my eyes brushed across the magnificent space to look for even more familiar faces. 

My eyes stopped wandering when I saw Millardo and Noin sitting close together in front of a round table. His mouth was brushing her ear, and I saw her giggle as he whispered to her. Words of love, maybe? I would never know. He covered her hand with his own and they seemed to be oblivious to the world around them. I spun around and closed my eyes in disgust, but the world was not crumbling before me like it used to when I saw them together. The feeling of devastation was slowly being blown away like dust. 

"Looking for Millardo, Dorothy?" 

Thoughts of Millardo seemed to vanish as my eyes opened and hovered over the sight before me. Quatre had never looked so grown up before. All I could think of at the moment was how handsome he looked and I fought the strong urge to look him up and down. Quatre wore a perfectly fit designer tuxedo and his hair was gelled to prevent them from covering his eyes. He had that same gentle smile plastered on his face and his stance towered over me. His big, blue eyes looked at me with an air of uncertainty and he had his hands stuffed in his tuxedo pockets. 

"No I...I was looking for you Quatre," I half-lied as I smiled with uneasiness. 

He wrinkled his nose, but his smile grew wider, he must have known that I was lying. "These parties are all the same. The same old people, the same old routine, I'm getting tired of it all," he said as he looked at the dancing crowd. I was tired of it all, too.

His head then turned to face me. "There's nothing we can really do but enjoy it, so would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Miss Catalonia?" he asked me as he drew out his hand to offer it. I then realized that his hand was only a concrete symbol of all that he was offering to me. He reached out and moved mountains to help me. He practically bought my soul back and gave it to me on Libra, and now he has picked up and reformed the pieces of the heart that I've broken on my own because I was so foolish as to dream of an impossible love. I've given my heart away to the wrong man, and Quatre has apparently given his to me... Something inside of me just couldn't let me take it. 

I must have been looking at him too long because I noticed that he wanted to pull his hand away because he must have thought I was going to reject him. I gave him my almost trembling hand before he could pull away. "Why of course, I would be delighted."

As he held my hand and pulled me to the dance floor, I looked at the man who used to be the enemy before my eyes. How could I have been so wrong? I berated myself for being so stupid. 

Quatre placed a hand on my back, and we started synchronizing to the music and to the other dancers. They didn't even seem to be there as Quatre's warmth seemed to consume me. Every time Quatre held me close, I wanted to melt into his arms and into oblivion. It felt as if I had that same feeling before. At the moment, I could not figure out whether it was during a past lifetime, or déjà vu, but I found out later that he held me the same comforting way as my father did. After war took my father away from me at such a young age, I sought to find someone who could love me the same way he did. I thought that I could find a man like my father in Millardo, but it was almost too late to realize that it was really Quatre. 

I looked at him again and he smiled at me. "What are you thinking about?" I asked him. 

His grin widened. "What am I thinking about? You... tonight...this..." 

"What about me, tonight and this?" I wish I didn't ask. My cheeks were burning.  

"I don't know...just the fact that Millardo is so lucky to have so much love in the world," he blurted out. 

My eyes were pained to hear this. I haven't told him a thing and now he's losing faith. "But you are a wonderful person...I'm sure that--" I protested. 

"Prove it," he cut in, challenging me.

"You are...you have selflessly been there for me. You have been my comfort and...and...You're making me think that Millardo was--" I wanted to say that Millardo wasn't the person I loved, but I quickly saw Millardo approaching us. Quatre gave me a perplexed look, but before he could speak, I gasped as Millardo stopped to where we were and tapped Quatre's shoulder. 

"May I cut in?" Millardo said, stopping our dance short. I saw Quatre stiffen and try his best not to flinch. 

"Yes, of course you may, Mr. Millardo," he replied coolly. He turned around without looking at me or saying anything to me and I could tell that he was trying to hide something by stiffly walking away. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it. My mouth was wide open, and I scoured my brain for something to say, but nothing would come out.

My heart sank and it felt as if the temperature dropped by at least twenty degrees. I was really sorry to look at Quatre's retreating and stiff back. Millardo took my numb and cold hand and wrapped placed his other hand on my back. If he asked me to dance several months ago, I would have complied without hesitation, but now all I wanted to do was to excuse myself so I can chase Quatre. As Millardo held me, I could not help but compare his touch to Quatre's gentleness as we swayed with exactitude to the music. I knew this waltz well and knew that it had approximately one minute left. One minute might not seem that long, but it felt like the longest minute of my life. 

"How are you Miss Catalonia?" Millardo asked me, his voice smooth. 

I stared at him for a moment. "I'm doing very well, and how are you, Mr. Millardo? And how is your wife? I trust that she is well?" 

"We are both very well, Thank you." 

An uncomfortable moment of silence passed between us before Millardo spoke again. 

"Winner seems to be interested in you."

I gave him a puzzled look, but did not answer. Faint memories flashed before me as I saw Quatre disappear into the crowd. I remembered him comforting me at the wedding of the man who I am now dancing with...I remember him fending after me after I pined for a man that didn't even know I did...and what did I do? I hurt him. I gave him a stab wound that was a hundred times worse than the one I inflicted on Libra. Quatre must be thinking that I am in the zenith of pure ecstasy, when I am actually sinking lower by the second because this cold realization hit me. 

...I didn't know it hurt me so much. 

I didn't know what to do at the moment. I knew it would be impolite and improper to cut the dance short. I didn't know how to go after Quatre and pull him back to me after I've pushed him away so much. I didn't know how to tell him...I didn't know if he was walking out of my life forever. I would have bargained my life to see him again.

I was staring into faceless people when I realized that Millardo had stopped and the clapping replaced the music. I forced out a smile. 

"It was a pleasure, Miss Catalonia," he said coolly as I curtsied before him. I looked up at him and found it so ridiculous that I believed that I was in love with him. How could I have been so stupid? He looked at me with no emotion, and his eyes were as empty as a dried out desert as he looked at me. His eyes never gave me the warmth Quatre did...his voice never reassured me the way Quatre did...The sight of him just reminded me how lost and silly I had become after the war.

"Likewise, Millardo, I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening," I didn't care to think of anything smart to say because at the moment, it didn't matter. I left whatever he wanted to say to himself to search for Quatre amongst the drowning crowd. My feet ached to run after Quatre and catch him before it was too late, but the crowd and etiquette prevented me from doing so. I looked to my left and right frantically, and even though no one seemed to notice, I didn't want to look like a madwoman. Still, there was no sign of Quatre. I quickly glanced up to see that he already reached the top of the grand stairs and he was about to walk out of that door and possibly out of my life forever.

I gasped and found myself wanting to push the people in front of me. For goodness' sake, move! Old men and women looked at me strangely but their sight probably failed them anyway. I finally reached the foot of the steps and hitched my dress so that I could walk up. It felt like the hardest ascent I've ever had to climb. I wanted to bargain my soul and my life as long as I could reach him and say whatever I needed to say. If he chooses to reject me because I have finally pushed him to the edge, I will accept it. It was never fair for him to clean up after someone else's crumbs. 

...Yet the other half of me hoped that he would still take me back. 

I wanted to take my shoes off because they were proving to be an obstacle. That climb was truly the most arduous climb of my life. I was struggling to catch the man who had helped me re-discover the heart that I've wasted away. Now he was walking away not realizing that I am offering this heart to him, probably thinking that he has lost. My biggest fear was if I never found him again...if he never finds out. What will I do then? 

I finally reached the top and made my way to the large doors that led to the front terrace. I pushed the doors open, and was it just me or were the doors much heavier than they really were? As I stepped out of the manor, I bent down to remove my shoes. Letting them dangle on my fingers, I hysterically searched for Quatre, but the front terrace was empty. I was all alone in the dark. 

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**Craziereggie392@aol.com**


	3. Solace Chapter III

A/N: Whoa! Haven't written an author's note in a while... I was supposed to post this at the end of this week, but I guess I believed that Quatre and Dorothy desperately deserved a happy ending, not to mention a lot of sap. After all, I haven't done them much justice, putting them through piles of angst and torture. So here it is. I finally finished something! It has been a while since I have. Oh, another thing, lemony lime scene ahead, but it's nothing graphic. 

Thanks to all those who have reviewed! I really appreciate it! Reviews make me feel giddy and inspired. 

Solace

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My shoulders were slumped, and I descended the front steps of the grand house with a heavy heart. I balled my hands up in fists and stuffed them in my pockets. I could feel the pain of my own nails digging into my flesh...but no pain was greater than imagining the look on Dorothy's face the instant Millardo held her hand and touched her back. The moment Millardo tapped my shoulder, I refused to drown myself into more pain by seeing the look on her face. She must have been more than willing to dispose of me to finally touch the man of her dreams. I decided that I was walking my way out of her life forever. Would she even care? Would I even matter? All I knew at the moment was that she mattered more to me than I mattered to myself. I wondered how I could overcome that feeling. I deduced that I would feel the same even if she has moved on. 

Why was it that I so idiotically set my heart on something that I could never have? She gave her heart to Millardo...and I knew that from the beginning, but I still chose to fall into the trap that she fell in. I would have done anything to have what she offered to _him. Then again, I was sure that she would have done anything to have what Noin had. Was Millardo still oblivious to what she felt for him? I was sure that she was oblivious about my feelings. I wanted to tell her that night as we danced, regardless of the risk of being hurt, but before I could say anything, Millardo stopped it short. I ended up getting my feelings hurt anyway._

I was soaking in my own heartbreak that I overlooked the fact that Millardo was married and in love with a woman other than Dorothy. I forgot to take into account that Dorothy could never have had him. I guess I was too blind with resentment and thoughts of them together to remember that. It was funny how she had that power to let my heart overtake my mind. I wished I had that kind of effect on her. 

Suddenly, with instincts that I never lost from the war, I turned around and realized that I was not alone. Dorothy was at the top of the front steps with her dress hitched and her shoes dangling on her fingers. 

"Quatre! Quatre! Wait!" I heard her call after me. My heart fluttered and part of me was hoping that she chose me over Millardo. Part of me dreaded that she was going to tell me that she was going to run away with him. Half of her face showed relief and the other half showed fear. I can hardly remember if my mouth was hanging open or if I stared blankly.

I wanted to grab her by the shoulders, shake her and tell her that _he_ didn't love her, but I did and that I would be there for her. Instead, I pressed my lips together and turned back around to resume my walking. I dreaded that she would look into my eyes and tell me that she was sorry that she didn't feel the same way if I did what I wished to do. She called my name again, but I ignored it. My hopeful mind imagined her running frantically down the steps, racing to reach me. 

"Oh Quatre, please!" I heard her say, her voice getting nearer and nearer. The next thing I felt was her hand whirling me around to face her. I looked into her eyes and instantly read what she felt. She chose me. I wanted to jump for joy, but images of her pining for Millardo kept flashing in my head.

"Did you enjoy dancing with him, Dorothy?" I asked mockingly as I looked into her eyes, even though it hurt me to refer to him and it hurt me even more to inflict pain on her. But at that point, I was saturating in my own suffering, with images of _his hands holding her. I must have been going crazy._

"Oh God, Quatre...I don't know how to tell you this, I couldn't let you go without--" she started, tears welling up in her eyes. I wanted to take her into my arms and murmur sweet, reassuring words in her ear that proved all my love, but I tried to look at her without emotion. The contents of my stomach were boiling up inside with envy and my chest twisted in pain and I didn't know if I was supposed to be angry at her or _him or myself. _

"Tell me what? Tell me how wonderful it felt to have _his hands on you, tell me how you looked into _his_ eyes and saw forever?" Oh Allah, I was stabbing my own heart as well as hers. She looked up at me with those piercing eyes of hers. She was the same dewy eyed beauty like she was in Millardo's wedding...but this was different. Tears were welling up because of her unspoken love for me. I realized that we were both bleeding inside. _

With a look of determination, she placed her hands on my shoulders. She kept her gaze on me, but what I saw next astonished me. Tears were freely running down her cheeks. She never cried for Millardo, but now she is crying for me. 

"Can't you see? I thought you read me so well...or are you pretending now that I am the one who is on pins and needles for you?" I saw that she made no attempt to brush her tears away, even though I wanted to. 

She sighed, but continued on. "I wanted to tell you...it did not feel wonderful to have his hands on me, only awful because I realized that I wanted you, and when I looked into his eyes, I saw that I missed yours and I had loved you and didn't know it until now." 

She had said it. She said the words that I have dreamed of the night she fell asleep in my arms. I wanted to speak and tell her I felt the same way and that I was sorry for scorning her, but she let go of her grip on my shoulders.

"But Quatre, it's not fair to you...you covered my hand as my heart ached for Millardo on his wedding day, you paid for the drinks that I used to get drunk because I was not over the unrequited infatuation I had with him, you picked up the dirty pieces that no one would touch...I don't deserve someone like you. How can you love me back after the way I acted? It's truly not fair...but somehow, I can't help but hope for a chance with you..." 

My arms automatically wrapped around her waist and I pulled her against me so close that I could hear her heartbeat against mine. I could no longer take my own cruelty. I felt her hands clasp on the back of my neck. I submerged my face into her hair. "Stop the nonsense Dorothy. Stop being ridiculous...I'm here...I'll always be here and you know that." 

She started sobbing against me and hot tears began to dampen my suit. The suit was the least of my worries at the moment. Honestly, it felt pleasing to feel her tears dampen my suit. I ran my hand through her hair to try to soothe her and I pressed my lips to her head.  

I continued on. "I love you so much that at the moment I felt Millardo's fingers on my shoulder I knew I had to let go because being happy is all I hope you would ever be. I wasn't sure if it was gratitude or affection that you felt for me. Then as you cried for me tonight, I realized that I have done you a disservice."  

She looked up at me with tears of passing sadness and coming joy. A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "We are the scariest ghouls I have ever known. We're standing here, being melodramatic and overemotional over stupid things that didn't really exist. Do me a real service and kiss me," she said, in that tone of hers that commanded me. I willingly obliged.  

With my fingers, I tilted her head up gently to face me. As our lips touched, I took one last look at her before being lost into the depths of the kiss. I closed my eyes and I felt her wrap her arms about my neck and I deepened the kiss. As our tongues dueled, I felt my arm tighten around her waist. My index finger ran diagonally down her neck to her shoulder. My brain told me I needed air, but I had waited too long for this. Too long that breathing can wait just a little while longer...

My body mechanically pressed against hers. Her kiss tasted like wine and frankly, I didn't mind getting drunk. My fingers trailed from her shoulder up to her face and cupped it. It was our first and yet there was nothing gentle and innocent about it. The kiss was strong and raw and I knew that this was a result of locked feelings and pent up loneliness inside. Suddenly, she broke the kiss off and gasped for air. 

In between breaths I told her I loved her over and over again. There was no holding back now. I stroked her hair and she kissed me and told me he loved me too. We were so wrapped up in each other that we forgot that we were in a public place, in someone else's engagement party, not ours. She looked at me with a devious smirk on my face. 

She tiptoed to whisper the words to me. "I want you to come home with me." I nearly jumped as she finished her statement. 

----

I wanted to refuse her request, but we got there, on the point of no return. She lay underneath me, with her arms forming a loose circle around my arms, summoning me to her. In my selfish way I had hoped to be her first, but I also knew that if that was the case, I would hurt her. I often heard classmates and friends talk about the intimate details, but I have never experienced it. I have always been called the sentimental one and I waited for the right woman. I'm glad I did because I did find her. 

As I entered her, I felt my soul soar into the sky with hers. She clenched in pain, but I had a hard time restraining myself. She tried not to whimper or sob, but I knew what she was going through. A part of me was happy that I was her first, but another part of me wanted to pull out so that I could cause her no more pain. 

"I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry," I whispered, my breath shuddering and throaty.

I rubbed my cheek against hers and ran my hands up and down her thighs to soothe the pain. Her grip on me tightened but I felt her hips sway towards me, driving me deeper. I knew even that caused her pain and I rubbed my nose against her cheek. She said nothing, but beckoned me to carry on. I started to move against her gently, even though it was difficult for me to do so. She was driving me insane and it took all my will to prevent myself from making love to her like crazy. She was still adjusting. 

At first it was only me who was moving, but after a few moments, she started matching my thrusts. I found her mouth and kissed her gently to find that she was returning my kiss hungrily. This made my effort to be gentle even more difficult, if possible, and I found myself pushing into her deeper and harder than I intended to. She didn't seem to mind as she arched her back to me. My hands could not help but slide up to her rear and push her against me even deeper. She made a soft sound against my mouth as she felt it. 

My mouth then drifted down to kiss her neck, and her hand traveled up to the back of my head to caress it. I felt the pressure mounting and mounting as our bodies melded and meshed together. Her legs wrapped about my waist and I was pleased to know that all of the pain had gone. She shuddered and moaned at every move I made and I found myself matching the sounds she made. As I felt the pressure nearing the peak, I gave a push so hard that I drove her to the edge and I felt her clench around me. This triggered my own and I cried out her name like a mantra in doing so before being consumed by a glorious white light. 

We lay there for a few more moments, holding each other tightly, trying to recover from the overpowering but pleasant aftermaths of what had just been. I was too consumed and overwhelmed to quickly realize that I was squashing her. I unfolded her legs around me and I rolled both of us over so I could not crush her any longer. As I lay under her, my skin was pleasurably tickled by the feel of her spilled hair around us. I ran my hands up and down her bare back and savored the feel of her, the scent of her. I closed my eyes and tried to recapture the night we spent together. It seemed so unreal that I had to remember it to prove to myself that it really happened. This night was so much like the dreams that only I came up with when I was alone in my bed. She quickly buried her damp head on the side of my neck and kissed it. 

"If we're ever pulled apart, the memory of tonight is all I need to make my life worthwhile. To know that you love me tonight is enough," she whispered. I felt her hot breath against mine and it made me shiver. I quickly reacted to her bold statement. 

I turned my head so I could see into her eyes and my nose could touch hers. "Oh darling..." I breathed. As I looked at her, she looked very much like a lost little child. She was so used to loss and grief now that she has come to accept it as a part of her life. I was touched by what she said but I don't think I could ever stand being without her. She became my life and without her, I would lose my desire for living. I closed my eyes for a moment and re-opened them to say what I needed to say.

"Don't say that. We won't be pulled apart, I won't let it happen." 

She didn't say anything after that, but I could tell that she was assured by my words because she rested her head on my shoulder. There was no way that she was going to lose me like she lost the other men in her life. She was deprived of love so many times that it was my duty to give her what she needed. I just hoped that she still learned to have faith. With disappointment and broken promises frequently present in her life, I would not be surprised if she forgot how to believe. 

I felt her eyes and her hand roam over that old scar that she gave me. The old scar was just a remnant of war, but as her fingers ran through it, it burned. 

"I never had the chance or the courage to apologize for this...I can't believe I did this to you, I'm so sorry," she began. I took the hand that was over my scar and kissed it. "I hurt you tonight...and I'm sorry, but let's call it even, hmm?" I replied. She raised her head and kissed me softly with bruised lips from my kisses before resting her head against me once again and sighing in sleepy contentment. She wrapped her arms loosely around my neck and I rested my hands on her back. 

"I love you," was the last thing that I said and heard from her before being consumed in the best sleep of all my life.

-----

I placed my head gently on her stomach, afraid to crush her and the fragile being inside her. I found it hard to use her head as a pillow as her long, slender fingers rested on my head automatically. I could hardly believe that something in her burst with life as my ear was gently pressed to her bosom. I couldn't believe that she had known for a few weeks now and decided to withhold information from me. She said she wasn't sure until a week ago, but I've noticed some changes within the past few weeks. She gave me gentle smiles in public that she only reserved for me in the dark, and I noticed a glow in her cheeks that seemed to be indicating that she knew something that I didn't. 

"I can't believe that I'm going to be a father," I breathed on her stomach. 

"Well you better, because I believe it. You've been so good to me that I know that you will spoil this one rotten, Quatre." 

I chuckled as I raised my head to meet her gaze and to lie beside her. I kissed her forehead and pressed her head against my neck. I wrapped my arm gently but protectively about her waist. She was going to have a child. She was going to have my child. The feeling has never been this right. Automatically she wrapped her arms around me and relaxed. I closed my eyes. 

"What are you thinking about?" she asked me quietly with curiosity. I opened my eyes and squeezed her side.

"What name are we going to give to our baby?"

She took her arms off of me and she propped herself up on her elbows. I raised my head a bit. 

"I would like to make a deal with you," she proposed.

Dorothy...she always made interesting deals. She always won, too...but I had to hear this one. 

"Well, what is it?"

"If it's a boy, I get to name him...if it's a girl you get to name her. Fair enough?" 

There was no use in saying no. It seemed fair at the moment, so I shrugged and said yes. I would find out later that it was a boy after all.  

"Excellent!" She went back to her comfortable position with me and I closed my eyes and yawned.

"Quatre?" she said after a few moments. 

"Hmm?" 

"Promise me that you'll be there for our child. I don't want her or him lose a parent or both parents like I did," she said, startling me. 

My arms tightened about her and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "I told you I won't let that happen, I promise I won't, you're not going to lose me," I replied as I took her hand, kissed her palm and placed it on my heart. 

----

Dorothy stood from her sitting position on the chair and placed our sleeping son on his crib. She placed a kiss on his forehead and rose to feel my arms wrapping about her waist. A gasp came out from her mouth, but she quickly relaxed when she realized that it was me. She immediately placed her hands on my arms, forming a loose circle. 

"He's growing so fast, I don't know how I can cope with it," she whispered to me. 

"Hmm hmmm, maybe he's growing so fast he'll get lonely soon..." I replied, busying myself with nuzzling her neck.

She whirled around to face me and shot me a disapproving look. "Why, Quatre Raberba Winner...I clearly remember doing all the work in that delivery room not so long ago." She looked at me as if I couldn't remember...as if I couldn't feel her pain. But I was there and I saw what she went through. With disheveled hair, and sweaty brows, she held my hand with a grip so tight that the pads of my fingers became purple. She terrorized me with threats for doing that to her. I felt very guilty and actually believed her threats even though I was excited to see our child. By the way that she held my hand, I could feel her pain. 

I raised my eyebrow and challenged her glare. "If I'm not mistaken, you cut off my circulation and nearly gave me a heart attack with those threats of yours." I didn't want to complain to her, but I enjoyed coming up with replies. 

She lowered her eyes and sighed. "Yes, I suppose I did cut off your circulation a bit...and I threatened to dice you up..." She looked up at me in a defeated, but determined way, running her fingers through my nightshirt. "...But you know I didn't mean any of it." 

"So what do you say we try tonight, hmm?" I said, pushing my nose against hers.

"That's just your excuse, to get lucky tonight, your mischievous, voracious appet--" she said slyly, slightly pulling away from me. I frowned and I rummaged my brain for an answer. 

"Well...don't pretend that you don't like it, in fact you always tempt me every night...not wearing any underwear under your nightgowns..." I smirked as she frowned. Two points for me. 

She narrowed her eyes and sighed in defeat. "Fine, you win." My grin grew wider at the mention of this. I pulled her against me, capturing her lips with mine and just when she parted her lips for me, she pulled away. She turned around and brushed our son's head with her fingers. 

"Good night Wills, sleep tight," I heard her whisper. When I first held our son, my eyes were blurry with tears. Dorothy, tired and spent, managed to tell me that he looked almost exactly like me. I took one last look at my son's sleeping form before taking Dorothy's hand and tugging it. 

She shot me another disapproving look before smirking at me. "A little impatient, are we?" 

My grip on her hand tightened. "Try very impatient." 

She allowed herself to be led, and we quietly exited the bedroom, closing the door behind us. Once we were out in the hall, I quickly pulled her against me and carried her the same way I did when I tried to carry her over the threshold. "What are you doing?" she asked, even though she showed no signs of protest. 

"What does it look like? I'm trying to make sure you don't get away." 

I could see her eyes rolling even though we were in the dark. She put her arms around me and rested her head against mine anyway. She seemed to be content in our silence because she made no more remarks as I walked the two of us to the bedroom. When we reached the bed, I carefully placed her on it, and walked quickly to close the door and bolt it shut. I wish I had a "no disturb" sign to place on the doorknob. She was smirking at me in the dark as she sat up on the bed. This made me speed up to join her on the bed. 

When I reached the foot of the bed, I quickly hopped up and crawled on it, reaching her. I felt her hand touch my face as I straddled her. 

"I want a girl, Dorothy." 

"Girl or boy, you can name the next one," she quickly replied, as both of her hands crept under my shirt, pulling me to her gently. 

My hands fingered the lavender nightgown she wore before pushing them down to her shoulders, feeling the softness that was her skin. I lowered my face to meet hers and she dived up to meet me, my lips brushing against hers softly before building up into something more. Her hands on my back pushed me down to her and I quickly surrendered.

No words were needed or said because the way she held me and kissed me showed me and told me what she really felt. I could tell that she felt the same way too. She always told me that I had a great talent in reading her, and it was true. Words would have been inadequate to describe what we share. 

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Have any comments, suggestions, or death threats?

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Email them to me!

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**Craziereggie392@aol.com**


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